Champagne Supernova
by sbyamibakura
Summary: Noam Dar/Alicia Fox. Set Post-205 episode 7 (when Alicia helps out Noam.) Part Seven of Unmei. So if his heart might have skipped a beat or twelve when thinking of her, her smile against her lovely dark skin, he just attributed it to the dreams and put it out of his mind. They were just dreams. And then the dreams kept happening.


Champagne Supernova

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: The wrestlers own themselves; I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated T for language, etc.

Pairing: Noam Dar/Alicia Fox.

Setting: Post-205 episode 7 (when Alicia helps out Noam.)

Summary: So if his heart might have skipped a beat or twelve when thinking of her, her smile against her lovely dark skin, he just attributed it to the dreams and put it out of his mind. They were just dreams. And then the dreams _kept happening_.

Part Seven of _Unmei._

 _Italics for thoughts and flashbacks._

A/N: Me writing het? And about wrestling at that?! Le gasp! :O

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The elders called it _anam chridhe_ , soul heart. They said that there were those out there who were eternal bound to one another. That their souls called to each other throughout the ages, that these were the people meant for them, that _they_ were meant for.

Nine year old Noam had scoffed at them, had rolled his eyes at their stupidity. Soulmates, soul hearted or whatever you wanted to call it? They were so stupid. Who _believed_ that sort of shite? Nine year old him had laughed at them all.

 _Fourteen_ year old Noam had been utterly terrified. He had fled. He fled and delved even deeper into his wrestling obsession (something he had been transfixed by since he had been a small child), becoming a wrestler at fifteen, leaving Ayr behind for longer and longer periods of time.

Fourteen year old Noam started to have dreams, which is what causes him to flee to begin with. When he dreams of a woman, at first, he doesn't think anything of it. He _was_ a fourteen year old boy, after all. What boy wasn't filled to the brim with hormones at the time? So if his heart might have skipped a beat or twelve when thinking of her, her smile against her lovely dark skin, he just attributed it to the dreams and put it out of his mind. They were just dreams.

And then the dreams _kept happening._ Even _he_ , by that point, as dense as he could be in those days, knew that it wasn't _normal_ that he was continuing to dream the way he was, dreaming of the same girl over and over and _over_ again.

Sometimes it was only small things, a smile of hers here, a laugh, her sweet voice asking him for something when he couldn't see her (couldn't tell what he was doing in his dreams, sometimes, but she was always there with him, somehow.)

He doesn't tell the elders, but they seem to know anyhow and so he flees before they can ask their questions, pry him open (figuratively speaking) and try and learn all the secrets of it, of Soul Heart.

He makes his trade in professional wrestling and he finds a joy and contentment in it. It is even more than he ever could have asked for. He _relishes_ the travelling that some grumble and complain about. He is even, after a few months of travelling, freed from the dreams and he can put the dreams and the girl out of his mind; can concentrate on honing his skills further in wrestling and work on becoming _the best_.

He travels from promotion to promotion, city to city, country to country, over the years and it's fine. Initially, though he doesn't like to admit it, he tenses up when he lands somewhere, wondering if he'd feel anything or see anything, but he never does.

Then his mother gets sick. He's over five thousand miles away from home and she nearly dies. And for the first time in years he's terrified. He flies home immediately and is by her bedside at the hospital day and night, scared out of his wits that he's going to lose her. And it isn't his father's words nor his other family members, or the elders, who get him through the traumatizing time.

It's _her_.

He dreams of her again and it's a comfort that he cannot, does not, expect. It's as if she understands what he's going through, in these dreams, as if when they're talking that it's something he's already told her before. And she is understanding in them. She's patient with him, something very few have ever been with him; with his temper and general arrogance, most dismiss him out of hand. But not her.

He doesn't know her name, her age, anything, but he knows _her_. And through this, for the first time, he _wants_. He wants to see her, to know more. He's willing to admit, if only to himself, that this is what the elders spoke of, of what they longed to have themselves but none did (some of their parents and other ancestors did, but none of them, strangely enough.) But he did.

Now only if he could find her...

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When the WWE put their feelers out for some of the best Cruiserweights, he sees it as an opportunity. WWE was _the_ place and for guys like him, of his body type, this might have been the only opportunity he'd ever have to get to the Big Stage. He was determined to make it work. It brings his spirits up immensely. He has cocky grins for his opponents, flashy moves in the ring, flirts with the girls on the planes as he makes his way through matches and opponents until he gets to the Cruiserweight Classic.

Despite his status as a notorious womanizer, he actually did very little with women. He had a steady girlfriend when he was a teenager, until she had enough and told him it was either her or wrestling. It hadn't been a hard decision (well, it _had_ been, until he realized she had cheated on him with a senior in her highschool.) Maybe it was the thoughts of _her_ , his dream girl, that make him act differently.

He had by this time, on his way to the Classic, forgotten her face and her voice, but what she gave him, even in his dreams, is what kept him going; made him push harder, want to _be_ more. He's determined to win the Classic, to prove why he was one of the best wrestlers in the world, age be damned. He may have been young in years, on paper, but he had been around the world many times already by this point, had wrestled for years and had accomplished many things already.

He takes his loss in the Classic much harder than he expects to. Sure, it was a horrendous disappointment, but it feels like _more_ than that. Like he is missing some opportunity that he cannot afford to miss. So when Triple-H comes calling, saying they're crafting a whole _division_ for the Cruiserweights and that they want him to be apart of it, he says yes immediately, without even giving it a moments thought.

When he gets to Raw, he expects to feel nerves, but he doesn't, not really. Instead it's replaced with some kind of _hum_ almost, a almost kind of anticipation that is so nearly palpable that it shocks him. And it happens in an instant.

"Hey, Alicia!"

Alicia Fox walks past him and his world is turned upside down.

He instantly whips his head around in shock, at the frission he feels (though their bodies don't touch) and for the life of him, for the very first time in his life, he cannot find the words to say.

He watches her go, full in her ignorance, not knowing she has completely upended everything within him, everything that _is_ him.

It was _her._ He knew this with full certainty. The feeling he got at seeing her...no, even _before_ then. It was _just like_ the feeling in his dreams. It was her. He spends the day full of a nervous energy that he cannot suppress. He paces up and down the back of the arena is thankful that people think it's just the usual nerves for new talent and leave him be.

It was fine. It was. He plans, or tries to, what he's going to say to her, to do. How could he even _begin_ to explain it to her? Should he start very slowly? Go faster? The unsure feeling he had was one he wasn't used to. He was a man of self assurance, of high opinion of himself and his wrestling ability. But this, with her, left him feeling a vulnerability that he had never felt before. He didn't know how to deal with it. Still, the very least...he _had_ to talk to her.

He finally makes up his mind, gathering up his courage, and goes to find her. Doesn't take long. He's only steps out of the locker room he had ended up in before he sees her again.

With Cedric Alexander.

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It's only the fact that he digs into his hands hard enough it draws blood, that keeps him from bounding forward, tearing into the man for putting his hands on what was _his._ What _he_ himself belonged to.

The anger takes hold of him and so he uses it to his advantage. Mind you, he's not thinking _entirely_ clearly now (his body and mind too upset at seeing _her_ with someone else.) But for the most part, it works. He is around her often now, able to talk with her, to get under Cedric's skin, to declare what he wants. And what he wants is _her_. It's more than simple sexual attraction, more than simple want to be close to her, body to body. It was the fact of her touch, her smile, her words, her kiss (even if she gives it to him in a mocking fashion.)

Surely she had to feel what he did at their mouths meeting. It was fireworks, it was a supernova threatening to overtake them both. It overwhelmed him and all he could think is _yes, yes this is everything, isn't it? And you feel it now, you feel it. This thing between us. My everything, my heart, my damned fucking soul. You feel it too, don't you? And I'm here with you. Anything you ever need or want is yours. All you have to do is ask me. My girl, just-_

And then the moment is past and he can only marvel at her, at the moment that felt like ages, and smile after her. He'd win her over yet, show her what she was to him. Show her how it was _destiny_ , but it was more than that. That it was because he _loved_ her.

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The people near the door to the locker room all look at the door and then at him. One of the ref's gives him a look, eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Pretty sure you don't want to go in there. She's having another one of those crazy fits of hers."

"Not the first time. Guess Cedric leaving her just opened the dam back up." One of the catering guys whispers to another one, behind him.

He whips his head around. "Shut the fuck up." He hisses. "As if you have any understanding about _anything_ , you overgrown piece of shite."

He passes the rest of the idiots, with their snide remarks and gets to the door. He glares at them all.

"Get the hell outta my sight." He growls at them. "I catch wind of you near here or making fun of my girl again, there'll be hell to pay. You understand me?"

They all scatter like the scared little idiots they are and he opens the door without a second thought to the yelling inside. He makes his way in, heart clenching at seeing how upset she is.

"He doesn't deserve you." He says behind her, causing her to whip around. Her face clenched in obvious pain, tears leaving wet tracks down her face. He takes little note of the mess of the room from where she had obviously been throwing things. It's her pain, the heartbreak in her eyes, that keeps his attention. "He never has."

She stares at him, silent, before finally speaking.

"Am I crazy?" She asks him, in such a tone that it breaks his heart. "I don't think I am. I _don't._ I'm _not._ "

He steps forward, gathering her up in his arms, marvelling at the fact that she instantly lets him, marvelling at the fact at how _well_ they fit together. She was his missing pieces. He's filled with such love for her then that he can scarcely keep the words from tumbling out of his throat.

"Of course you're not." He says soothingly, running a cautious hand across her back, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"You're just saying that." She accuses, sniffling loudly. "Like all the others. They don't believe me. They never have. Even when I was little."

"But I _do_ , _mo chridhe_ ," He says sincerely. "I've never doubted you for an instant." He rubs her back some more as soothing as he can manage. She seems to like his touch, or at least appreciates it. She leans into him and her warm body against him is enough to make his head spin.

"They're all so..." She starts, head against his shoulder. "I haven't done anything wrong. It's just...I'd get a little...confused sometimes. I kept having these dreams as a child. When I tried to tell them about them, they said I was...wrong. That there was something wrong with me." She pulls back to look at him, tears still lingering in her eyes. "Am I wrong?"

"No." He says fiercely. "There is _absolutely_ nothing wrong with you." He wipes her tears away with a gentle hand. "You know what you are?"

She shakes her head at him.

"You're _mo chridhe_ and _m 'anam_. My heart and my soul. Because you know what? You're not the only one." He cradles her head in his hands like the precious thing she was. "I've had dreams for...a long time now. Know what I dreamed of? Dreamt of this girl who always encouraged me with her words, who helped me get through the toughest time of my life. Days I wouldn't have been able to get through without her. She was brave and she was beautiful and she was..." He caresses the sides of her face. "And she _is_...mine. Like I'm hers. Forever and ever."

"Because that," He continues, looking into her astonished face. "Is what we call fate. The elders in my area call it _anam chridhe_ , soul heart. When two people are destined to be with one another. Used to be afraid of it," He admits. "Until I saw you. And I knew I had no reason to be afraid. You're my girl."

"But I..." She says hesitantly. "I don't..." She shakes her head. "Is that why...I mean, Iwantedtohelpyou," She says in a rush, licking her lips briefly. "I wanted to help you in the first match you had with Cedric. I didn't know why. But I did. And I kept fighting it. Until I couldn't anymore."

"You wanted to help me." He smiles widely at her.

She leans in conspiratorily, his hands still on her face. The tears were drying on her face now and her eyes were alight with something much more happier and joyful now and he loved her more than words could say.

"I lied to you."

His eyes widen and he starts to frown.

"That kiss was _spectacular_." She breathes.

He starts to laugh, full of life and happiness and love and she follows suit.

"You're beautiful." He tells her with more sincerity than he had ever said anything.

Her eyes widen now.

"You're...not going to leave?" She says, more hesitantly now.

He shakes his head. "Not for anything."

"Promise?"

He nods. "I'll renew that promise to you every day of our lives if I have to."

"But I have to disagree with you on one thing, my girl." He tells her.

Her brows furrow. "What?"

"Can't say the kiss was spectacular if we don't have another kiss or three hundred to compare it to."

He grins.

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


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